


Having My Baby

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai wanted Sterek Mpreg.  Soooo...I wrote some for her.  That's pretty much it.  Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Having My Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lanoirpapillon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanoirpapillon/gifts).



> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

“Hey, will you come here?”  Stiles turns to watch his boyfriend pace between the breakfast bar and the French door leading to the balcony.  He reaches out a hand and calls out, “Derek, will you please stop pacing and come sit down?”

Derek stops pacing to glare at Stiles, “I don’t want to sit down, Stiles.  If I _wanted_ to sit down, I’d _be_ sitting down.”  He resumes his pacing, “What I _want_ , is for this baby to stop being a stubborn little shit and just-“

“Derek!”

_“What?!”_

Stiles throws his hands up, “I cannot believe that you just called our child a ‘stubborn little shit.’”  He stands up and moves to stand in front of Derek, arms crossed over his chest.  “You’re just pissed that-“

“I’m just pissed that what, Stiles? Please,” Derek gestures at his swollen midsection, “enlighten me as to what could possibly have me so upset and miserable that I’m more that ready to strangle you.”

“You know what?”  Stiles scoffs indignantly, “You’re an asshole. Maybe if you had _told_ _me_ you were a carrier, instead of keeping that little factoid from me. Maybe, _just maybe_ , none of this would have happened!  You’d still be living in that loft, getting your rocks off with random strangers so that you could avoid anything even remotely resembling a relationship!”  He turns away from Derek and heads for the kitchen, “You’re such a shitty human being, it’d be a miracle if you hadn’t already managed to screw up our kid."

“But,” Derek’s voice is barely above a whisper, but somehow, Stiles manages to hear it, “I’m _not_ human.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, muttering, “Semantics, Derek.” He stops at the sound of a quiet sob, lips pressing together to keep from saying something even more caustic that the vitriol he’s already spewed.

Derek gasps.  The nearly inaudible noise quickly followed by a hiss of pain and a sharp intake of breath, “Stiles?”

“What?”  Stiles turns to look at Derek, eyes widening at the sight of Derek bent over, elbows leaning on the breakfast bar, “Derek?”

“I think,” Derek lifts his head, eyes flaring briefly before returning to human, “that you should drive me to the-“ He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, a pained growl slipping between his lips.

Stiles’ mouth drops open, “Oh my God. Are you?  Is it?”  He gestures to Derek’s belly, eyes widening at Derek’s nod.  “Holy shit.  I’ll go get your bag.”  Stiles rushes out of the kitchen and races down the hallway towards the bedroom.

Derek watches him go, face twisting at the sharp pains gripping him.

There’s a crash of noise from the bedroom, followed by the sound of Stiles cursing under his breath.  Seconds later, Stiles is hurrying back towards Derek. He pauses in the den to pick up his cellphone and car keys, then rushes past Derek and out the front door.

Derek manages to count to five before his shamefaced boyfriend is opening the front door.  He swallows down a groan of pain and teases, “Forget something?”

Stiles blushes, “Yeah, I uh…” He scrapes a hand through his hair and asks hesitantly, “Do you need help?  I can-“

“I’m fine, Stiles.”  Derek smiles reassuringly, “It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.”

Two hours later, Derek is singing an entirely different tune.  “I fucking hate you right now!”  He pulls his hand out of Stiles’ grip, “Don’t touch me!  You _touching_ _me_ is what got me into this mess in the first place!” Derek groans and tosses his head back against the bed, “I just wish you’d leave me alone!”

Stiles backs away from the bed, “You don’t mean that.”

Derek fixes his gaze on Stiles and snarls at him, “Get out!”

“But,” Stiles’ eyes flit between Derek and the nurse, swallowing nervously when she gives him a sympathetic look, but says nothing.  He looks down at the washcloth in his hand, the same washcloth he was just using to wipe the sweat from Derek’s brow.  Stiles swallows hard and nods jerkily, “Okay.  I’m gonna,” he gestures towards the hall, leaning forward to place the washcloth on the bed, “I’m just gonna go.”  Stiles pauses in the doorway, “If you need anything-“

“I won’t.”  Derek picks up the washcloth and flings it to the floor.

Stiles’ brows furrow and he steps out of the room. He’s managed to make it to the nurse’s station when Derek howls in pain.  Stiles winces, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“He doesn’t mean it, you know.”

Stiles looks around for the source of the voice, “I’m sorry, what?”

There’s a nurse standing some ten feet away, “Whatever he said to get you to leave?  He doesn’t mean it.  They never do.” She smiles at him, “Pain makes people say stupid things.”

“I’m pretty sure he meant it.” Stiles shakes his head, “Pain doesn’t _make_ people say anything. All it does is,” He gives the nurse a wry grin, “It simply removes the filter.”

The nurse shrugs, “Maybe.”  She ducks into a small supply closet, her voice drifting out as she pulls a small plastic pitcher from one of the shelves. “Just remember that whatever he says? It’s colored by pain. Here,” the nurse hands Stiles a small tube of lotion and proceeds to fill the pitcher with ice.

Stiles makes a face at the tube, eyebrows lifting when the nurse hands him the pitcher of ice.  “What’s this for?”

“The lotion is for you.”  She laughs at the look on Stiles’ face, “So you can massage his back.”

Stiles scoffs, “He doesn’t even want me in the room. I’m pretty sure a massage is out of the question.”

“He’ll change his mind.”  The nurse smiles, “They always do.”

“I wish I had your-“

_“STILES!!”_

The nurse gives him a pointed look, “See? Told you.”  She ushers him down the hall with a smile and calls out after him, “Good luck.”

Stiles peeks into the room and is surprised to see Derek reaching for him as soon as he’s inside.

Derek is sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead. He grips the front of Stiles’ shirt and pleads softly, “I’m sorry.  Don’t leave, okay?  I want you here, I swear. This is all a little more-“ Derek sucks in a breath and blows it out in a series of hurried puffs.

“Hey,” Stiles sets the ice and lotion aside and eases onto the edge of the bed, “You have to calm your breathing remember?” He demonstrates the breathing exercises they both learned in Lamaze and smiles when Derek imitates him. “There you go.” Stiles helps Derek through the pain and then reaches for the pitcher, “You want some ice?”

Derek nods weakly.  He lifts a hand to take the pitcher, eyebrows lifting when Stiles shakes his head and lifts an ice chip out of the plastic container.

“Open.”

Derek obediently does as he’s asked, taking the ice chip from Stiles’ fingertips.  He chews slowly and swallows, “Thank you.”

Stiles offers him another ice chip, smiling gently when Derek takes it between his lips, “You’re welcome.” He wipes a hand through Derek’s sweaty hair and presses a kiss to his temple.

“I don’t deserve you.”  Derek rubs his cheek on Stiles’ shirt, “You’re too good to me.”

A chuckle escapes Stiles, “Nah.” He rubs a hand up and down Derek’s side, “Surprising as it may seem, I happen to love you unconditionally. You’re stuck with me, bub.”

Derek shoulders lift in a laugh, “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”  Stiles helps Derek sit up and offers, “Want me to rub your back?”

“No.  That’s okay. I’m,” Derek shakes his head, “I’m all sweaty.”

“How about,” Stiles sets the pitcher on the bedside table and thinks for a second, “you let me grab a few washcloths and I’ll wipe down your face and neck.  It’ll help cool you off, right?”  He smiles at Derek’s cautious nod.  “Okay then,” Stiles wraps both arms around Derek and leans to whisper against his lips, “one cool water sponge bath for the blazingly hot werewolf-“

Derek groans, rolling his eyes at the long-standing joke, “Please don’t.”

Stiles laughs, singing right through the interruption, “‘having my baby.  What a lovely way of sayin’ how much you love me.'”

“You really shouldn’t do that.”

Stiles arches a brow, “Do what? Serenade you?”

Derek returns the look, a flicker of pain crossing his face, “Is that what you’re doing?  I thought you were going to help cool me off?”

“Ah yes, right.  I’ll get right on that.”

Stiles keeps his promise and a few short hours later he’s holding their son for the first time.  He blinks back tears, trembling fingertips reaching out to ghost over what he can reach of his son’s face.

“Hey.”

Stiles looks up in surprise, smiling when he sees that Derek’s awake.  He moves to sit down next to Derek and whispers, “Hey.”  Stiles shifts the infant in his arms so that Derek can see him. “You had me worried for a little bit there, Hale.”

“I know.”  Derek cups their son’s head with his hand, gasping when the newborn turns instinctively towards the touch.  He shifts closer and rubs his cheek against the baby’s, choking on a sob at the feel of a tiny hand reaching up to press against his chin.

Stiles takes in the sight of his tiny family. He smiles and whispers, “Hey, Derek?” Stiles waits until Derek is looking at him before continuing, “Thank you.”

Derek blinks up at him, tears shining in his eyes, but it’s a smile that he gives to Stiles.  A smile and a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://annabethlemorte.tumblr.com/) and feel free to leave me a prompt. I promise I'll get to it...eventually. And don't worry, I don't bite...much. *grins*
> 
> Please be warned: Blog is NSFW.


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